Finding Home
by a.lakewood
Summary: The start of a journey. And the realization that home is where you make it. {note: reviews greatly appreciated}
1. Chasing Memories

Finding Home  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"No!" Calla Porter hollered, stomping up the stairs to her room. "I refuse to go with you on some. . .some pilgrimage! You can't do this! I'm not going!" She slammed the door.  
  
That didn't go as planned, Marcus thought, sighing as he sat in his well- worn armchair. She was most definitely her mother's daughter. He was going to miss that about his wife - her spirit. That fire that burned within her. But, in her, it burned no longer; now, it was smoldering inside Calla.  
  
She couldn't believe it. Brooding silently, full of intense rage, Calla pressed herself against her bedroom door. Her father had to be clinically insane. And especially after what had happened! He was just going to pick up and move on like nothing changed at all. She lifted her gaze to the framed picture beside her bed. It had been taken only two months ago. Her mother was always so gung-ho about getting the family portrait taken. Everyone was truly happy behind the confines of the metal frame and glass. Her mom, dad, older brother, younger brother and sister, and herself. So happy. And the happiness was replaced so fast. Anger, hate, pain, and an incredible, overwhelming sadness. Depression. Black. A deep pit of nothing. And nowhere to go but up.  
  
Calla and her father had come so far since the accident and, so it turned out, he had just gone further off the deep-end. Moving. Out of the home she had spent her entire life in. Away from friends and family. Familiarity. How could he do this?  
  
It wasn't that difficult to answer that question, she realized. Maybe he hadn't lost his mind, but thought this was the only way to escape the tragedy that had taken residence in his home and life.  
  
But understanding her father's reasoning didn't mean she agreed. This home, and the family that frequented it were all that Calla had left.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"You realize that I hate you for this, right?" Calla questioned angrily from the passenger seat, glaring at her father. "I don't want to be dragged on this journey of yours. . .Couldn't you just, I don't know, deal with this at home? Like a normal person would? I doubt you will find your destiny in Colorado."  
  
"I'm not trying to fulfill my destiny, and I'm not dealing with something," Marcus said quietly. "We are starting again. Anew. All over."  
  
"But why in Colorado?"  
  
"You probably don't remember. You were about two and Zeke was four. We were taking a family vacation. On our way to Denver, we stopped in this little place called Everwood. Your mom loved it. Said that it was what Heaven must be like. She always wanted to go back, but. . ."  
  
"Oh. . .How long 'til we get there?" Calla asked, knowing that this was her dad's way of grieving. Chasing memories. But she'd let him follow them. Hopefully he'd see that this was only a small memory from a lifetime of them and they would return to the home that housed all the memories she had that were worth remembering. 


	2. Contrary to Popular Belief

"So. . .This is Everwood," Calla sighed, getting out of the vehicle. She looked around. The house beside the driveway in which they had parked was fairly small. Tucked away from the end of Magnolia Drive. Judging by all the Chrysler New Yorker's and Lincoln Continentals, it was highly unlikely that a teenager lived in one of the nearby houses. She opened the back passenger's side door and started grabbing boxes.  
  
"Here," Marcus said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and tossing them in Calla's direction.  
  
"Thanks," she replied sarcastically, watching the keys bounce off the top of the box she was carrying. After setting the box on the porch, she returned to the front lawn for the keys. Unlocking the front door, she entered the house she would be spending more time than she wanted to in. It wasn't that bad, really. Their furniture had already arrived and been set up by the moving crew. It wasn't something the moving crew usually did, but extra pay was ambition enough. Taking the box she had abandoned on the porch up to her room, she hoped that her room, at least, looked a little like home. And it did. It was nearly the same size; the windows, door, and closet were in the same spots; her furniture just needed a little rearranging. The view from the windows was a little different. But, it was something kind of familiar.  
  
"Hey! Calla?"  
  
"Yeah?" She appeared at the top of the stairs.  
  
"I think I can manage bringing the rest of the boxes in. So, why don't you go to the school and get your schedule and stuff."  
  
"And stuff," she repeated.  
  
"Well, yeah. Stuff. . .I don't know. They're expecting you to come for a tour today."  
  
"Oh. Did school already start, or something?"  
  
"Yeah. About a week ago."  
  
"Where is this school?" Marcus handed her directions and the keys. She looked at the monstrous excuse for a mode of transportation, sighing. Her dad and his Durango. That's one relationship she never wanted to understand. "Um, I'm not gonna be driving through this town with that attached to it." She pointed at the trailer.  
  
He sighed, setting the boxes he was holding on the lawn. "Okay. I'll take it off." He took the keys from Calla and went over to the SUV. After backing it out and parking it in front of the house, he unattached the trailer from the hitch.  
  
"Thanks." She walked around to the other side of the vehicle and got in. She turned the key in the ignition and buckled her seatbelt, then glanced at the directions in her hand to County High. "Oh, this is gonna be tons of fun," she said to herself in mock enthusiasm. Finding the high school okay, she pulled into the closest empty space in the parking lot. Entering the building, she was surprised to find herself somewhat afraid. This was the first time she'd been the 'new student.' She knew no one here. A bell rang and students flooded the hall. Nobody paid her much mind as she headed down the busy corridor. The office wasn't too difficult to locate and she quietly opened the door, entered the room, and took a seat in an empty chair.  
  
A graying lady stood from behind the counter. "I'm Miriam. You must be Calla Porter." She extended her hand, smiling.  
  
Calla stood and shook the older woman's hand. "Yeah. You can call me Cale, though."  
  
"Okay, Cale." Miriam handed her a sheet of paper with a list of classes on it. "This is your class schedule. Um, a student should be on his or her way here to take you on the tour."  
  
"Thank you, Miriam." She returned to her chair and looked over the classes she had. Physics, Advanced English, Calculus - my favorite class. . .an open block, yay. . . art, British Literature. . .thanks, Dad. . .Espa(ol. . .and another open block. This would be a glory day for the slackers at home. Two whole open blocks. Now, all I need to find is the library, she thought, clearly not paying attention when another student entered the office.  
  
"Is that her?" the student asked Miriam, pausing at the counter.  
  
"Yes. Calla Porter, this is Rachel Nolan," Miriam replied.  
  
"Hi," Calla said, forcing a smile for the preppy girl before her and outstretching her hand. "You can call me Cale."  
  
"Okay, Cale," Rachel began, briefly shaking Calla's hand. "Can I see your schedule?"  
  
Calla handed it to her. Rachel looked over it as she led Calla out of the office. The hall had cleared. It was completely empty. At Hope Springs High, there would still be a good two or three people wandering around. Hello, County High. "Could you show me the library, too. If it isn't too much trouble?" Calla rolled her eyes at the sound of her own voice.  
  
"Yeah. Whatever. Advanced English and British Literature are both in this room," Rachel said monotonously, gesturing at the door she had stopped in front of. A few more doorways down the hall, she stopped again. "This is the science room - Physics is taught here. And, across the hall is where they teach Calculus and the other math classes." She looked blankly at Calla. "Oh. Yeah. The art room and the library."  
  
Calla sighed heavily as she followed Rachel down another hallway. She paused in front of a door from which she heard light piano music. "Is this where the music department is?" she asked looking through the window and seeing a dark-haired boy about her age sitting on the piano bench.  
  
"No. That's where they teach the ballet class." Calla wasn't sure if Rachel was being sarcastic or not. "And, a piece of advice: if you want any friends, stay away from that kid." Rachel started down the hallway again. At the end, she stopped. She pointed to her right. "That's the cafeteria. Straight ahead is the library, and, at the very end of this hallway, on your left, is the art room."  
  
As they headed back towards the office, Calla realized she didn't have any books. "Do you know where I'm supposed to get my text books?"  
  
"In the office," Rachel said as if it was something everyone knew.  
  
"Thanks." Hopefully not everybody here is like you, Calla thought to herself, staring at the back of Rachel's head. I've put up with enough people like you. She entered the office alone, Rachel continued down the hall. "Rachel said that I could get my books here."  
  
"Oh. Yes. I forgot. Silly me." Miriam disappeared into a different part of the office, returning with a box which she set on the counter. "Okay, we got Brit. Lit., English, Physics, Spanish, and, oh my, Calculus. You good at math?"  
  
"Eh. . .I try," Calla laughed. "Um, I noticed that I have two open blocks. . ."  
  
"Oh. Well, considering that you're a senior and that you practically have enough credits to graduate, we decided that you didn't need to take any more than six classes. Well, unless you want to, that is."  
  
"Um, no. This is fine." Calla took the box after placing her schedule inside it. "Thanks, Miriam. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"We'll start with the fifth class listed there tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Yep. This is how we did things at home."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Have a good day."  
  
"You, too."  
  
Calla pushed the door open with her back after turning the knob. As she approached where she had parked, a car pulled into the space beside hers. She juggled the box as she tried to get the keys out of her pocket. "Oh, radioactive monkey piss," she groaned.  
  
This outburst elicited a laugh from the occupant of the car. "You need some help?"  
  
"Um, no?"  
  
"Here." He took the box from her. "I'm Bright, by the way. Bright Abbot. You're new."  
  
"Yes, I am." Calla replied, unlocking the doors and opening the one for the backseat. Bright set the box inside. "Thanks. I'm Calla Porter, but you can call me Cale."  
  
"Hello, Cale," he said, shaking her hand. "So, where'd you move here from?"  
  
"Hope Springs, Iowa."  
  
"Iowa?"  
  
"Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, it really is a state. It's major exports include corn, tractors, more corn, and Elijah Wood."  
  
Bright smiled. "I know that Iowa's a state. It was nice meeting you. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Calla got into the Durango, smiling as she watched Bright head towards the school. "Okay. . .so maybe this won't be as bad as initially thought." 


	3. The Beast, the AntiConformist Table, and...

The Beast, the Anti-Conformist Table, and a Wizard of Oz Reference  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
When Calla woke up the following morning, she almost believed that she was at home. In her old room. But, of course, she wasn't. As soon as she stepped outside her bedroom door, it reaffirmed that. She sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and turned back into her room to get clothes for her first day at County High.  
  
Stepping out of the bathroom after showering and getting dressed, Calla towel-dried her hair as she headed downstairs. She found her dad in the kitchen making breakfast. "So. . .what are you going to do today?" she asked, sitting at the table.  
  
"I don't know. Wander around town. Get acquainted with the locals. Maybe find a place to open up a studio," he answered.  
  
"Ah. . .something constructive. And I have to go to school. You know that I've never had to be the new person in anything? I don't want to go."  
  
"Do you want me to drop you off and walk you to the front door?"  
  
"Please, no. I. . .No. Not gonna happen. It's enough that you dragged me on this quest."  
  
"You can't always throw that back at me, you know. You'll like it here. Give it time. And the benefit of a doubt. For me. And Mom."  
  
Calla turned away from him, nodding, her eyes welling up with tears. She brushed them away before they fell. "Can I take that beast?"  
  
"I suppose. Until we find you something."  
  
"Please let me pick it out this time. No more of those gas-guzzlers." She headed back to her room and grabbed her backpack which was filled with the books that she would need for the day ahead. After pulling on her tennis shoes, she grabbed the keys and headed out the door. "See you around 3:30."  
  
Calla parked beside a familiar car and waited a moment before getting out so that Bright's passenger could get out first. He smiled at her and waved when he noticed who she was. Pulling the strap of her backpack over her shoulder, she locked the doors, returning Bright's smile. "Hey, Cale," he said.  
  
"Hi," she replied, glancing at Amy.  
  
"Oh, uh, this is my sister, Amy. Amy, this is Cale Porter. She's new."  
  
Amy reached for Calla's hand. "Nice to meet you," she greeted, before heading off to catch up with her friends.  
  
Bright read the front of her shirt as she headed over to where he was standing. "The Atari's?"  
  
"The Ataris. More of an 'iss' at the end. It's a band," she corrected.  
  
"Are they big where you come from?"  
  
They had started walking towards the building. "No. On my planet, they're known as 'underground punk.'"  
  
Bright laughed. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way."  
  
"I know. I was just messing with you."  
  
"So. . .What's your first class?"  
  
"Art. I'm excited."  
  
"You're an artist?"  
  
After a long silence, "Maybe someday. . ." She grinned.  
  
Bright smiled with her. "What else do you have today?"  
  
Calla handed him her schedule. "For the next two weeks, this thing will be permanently fixed to my hand."  
  
"Nope. The only thing we've got is last block tomorrow."  
  
"Oh. But, hey. It's an open block."  
  
By this time, they had entered the school. "This is your locker." Calla gave him a curious look. "It's right there on your schedule," he answered her unasked question, smiling. "Maybe I'll see you after school."  
  
Calla nodded as she started to put the books she wouldn't need just yet into her locker. Closing the metal door, she looked around, taking in her surroundings. At least I've made one friend. . .I think, she thought, shouldering her bag again before heading for the art room.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
After her second class of the day, it was time for lunch. Calla wasn't as hungry as she thought she would be - especially after skipping breakfast earlier. She grabbed a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and a carton of milk from the line and turned to face the sea of tables full of people she didn't know. Everyone looked the same to her. Except one person. He was alone, tucked back in a corner table, reading a book. She headed towards where he was seated. "Is this, possibly, the anti-conformist table?" she asked, a half smile on her face when she realized that she had startled him.  
  
He looked around, his headphones now hanging around his neck. "I suppose it is."  
  
"Can I sit?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. I'm Ephram Brown."  
  
"Calla Porter. Or, Cale." She reached for his hand, and shook it.  
  
Ephram nodded, returning to his book, and pulling his headphones back on.  
  
Calla watched him for a moment before she began to eat. When she was finished, she opened a zippered pocket on the front of her bag, producing from it a CD. She slid the case across the table to Ephram. He removed his headphones again and turned the case to read the writing on the disc. "I think you'll like it," she said, standing. "Thanks for the seat and for not asking questions."  
  
Ephram nodded as she walked away. Okay, he thought. It's not every day you get a CD from someone you just met. . .So. . .I wonder if this 'Dishwalla' is any good. . . He put the CD in his discman and pressed play.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Calla entered the library shortly after the bell that started class sounded. Students had already staked their claim on most of the tables. However, there was an empty one near the windows. She headed for it, hoping that no one would reach it before she did. She took out her CD player and a sketchpad, then looked out the window.  
  
"Is this the anti-conformist table?" a voice asked, pulling Calla from the world within her sketchpad.  
  
"Ephram. Sure. Now that you're here." She smiled as she moved her bag to the floor.  
  
Ephram took the chair opposite Calla at the table. "I listened to that CD." He pushed it across the table towards her. "You were right. I liked it."  
  
Calla picked it up. "Then keep it. I have it stored on my hard-drive. I can make another copy." She handed the CD back to him.  
  
"Thanks." He took it back and placed it inside his backpack. Opening the book he had been reading during lunch, he pressed the play button on his discman, heading back to the fictitious world within well-worn pages.  
  
Calla opened her sketchbook to a new page. She searched beyond the window for something to draw, then returned her gaze to Ephram. The first line she made was the curve of the side of his face. Then the slope of his nose. And his eyes, focused on words she couldn't see.  
  
Once she was done with the shadowing and the tinier details, she held the sketchbook an arms-length away. She liked it. Gently closing the pages, she put it away. Then, she leaned back in her chair to watch Ephram. Glancing at the clock, she began timing how long it would take for him to get that feeling when he knew someone was watching him. A while later, after he had turned four pages, he looked up at her.  
  
"Eleven minutes."  
  
"Huh?" Ephram questioned, taking the headphones off.  
  
"Eleven minutes," she repeated.  
  
"Eleven minutes. . ."  
  
"Yeah. Before you realized you were being watched."  
  
"I haven't known you long enough to judge you, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you're odd."  
  
"Thank you." She smiled as she sat up and leaned forward. "So, are we required to stay here during open blocks, or can we leave?"  
  
"We can leave."  
  
"Oh. Are you on an open block, or did you skip class to read in the library?"  
  
"Open block."  
  
"Oh. . .Think you would, possibly, be willing to show me the wonder that is Everwood?"  
  
Ephram pursed his lips, thinking. He glanced at the clock. There was still a good hour of school left. "I, um, yeah. I suppose I could."  
  
"Really? Thanks." She stood up and grabbed her bag from the floor.  
  
Ephram stood as well, putting his book and discman away. "Payment for the CD."  
  
"Ah. An exchange of my goods for your services." At the look on Ephram's face, she rethought what she had just said. "That didn't come out right, did it?"  
  
"Nope." He grinned. He liked Cale. She had an amusing personality. Definitely a good change from the typical Everwoodian. He wondered about her story and why she was here. But he remembered his first days in Everwood a year ago. The reason that brought him here. Also, she was glad that he wasn't asking questions. If she wanted to tell him, she would.  
  
"So. I can tell you're not from here. Well, not from here, from here. You know?"  
  
"Yeah. We moved here a little over a year ago."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"From New York."  
  
"Hmm. . .Never been, but always wanted to go. Too bad my Dad's little 'expedition of destiny' didn't lead us East."  
  
"Yeah. I miss New York. . .But, Everwood. . .I don't know. I used to hate it, but I still don't like it. I don't not like it though, either."  
  
"Yeah. I get what you're saying. There's no place like home." She laughed quietly to herself. "Now I sound like Dorothy."  
  
Ephram pondered that a moment. "If you're Dorothy, would that make me Toto?"  
  
"Do you enjoy being carried in a picnic basket and being scratched behind the ears?" She followed him down the front stairs and to a bike rack.  
  
"Um. . . Only on good days. . .So, no, I guess not." He pulled his bike from the rack and walked over to her.  
  
Calla produced her keys. "Is this more of a walking situation?"  
  
"Well. . .I guess it depends on what you want to see."  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Okay. . .It's up to you."  
  
"Um. . .Let's see. . .How long do you expect this to take?"  
  
"I'm not sure. . .More than an hour, I'd say."  
  
"Why don't we put your bike on the back of the beast, and we can drop it off at your house where you can tell your parents where you are so they don't worry and get really upset at me, someone you just met, and then we can see Everwood in its glory?" Calla questioned.  
  
"I think you're set on rapid-fire. But, yeah. We can do that. But I don't think my dad would worry too much if I were late."  
  
Ephram helped Calla load the bike into the back of the SUV, then they both climbed in. Ephram gave her the directions to his house, smiling at the concentration on her face. "You can turn the radio on if you'd like," she said as she pulled to a stop at the light. "Or, I think there's a CD in there."  
  
Ephram pressed the play button, and the familiar guitar-and-drum-driven sound of punk filtered from the speakers. "You may be odd, but at least you have a good taste in music."  
  
"Thank you, my new, blue-haired friend."  
  
"It was an impulse thing," he said, ruffling his hair, then smoothing it back down.  
  
"My mom freaked when I dyed mine purple a few months ago. . ."  
  
"Why'd you go back?"  
  
"She never liked it, but she put up with it. . ." Calla trailed off, remembering the look her mother gave her every morning. She would shake her head, but she would smile. Calla changed it back after the accident. She did it for her mom. It kind of seemed silly to her now. "Do you. . .nevermind." She was going to ask Ephram if he thought it was weird to change something for someone to make them happy, even if they were dead. But she wasn't prepared to open that can of worms.  
  
"This is it." Ephram pointed to the house. Calla stopped next to the curb and got out to help Ephram with the bike. She opened the back and took it out, wheeling it up to the side of the house. "I'm gonna leave a note for my sister, then I'll be right back, okay?"  
  
"Yep," Calla nodded, returning to the Durango. Ephram returned a couple of minutes later. "So, where'm I headed? I'm completely lost."  
  
Ephram laughed in reply. 


	4. Meeting Dr Brown

First of all, thanks to Ditey for reading and reviewing this. I really appreciate it. And, second, sorry about the short chapter. The next one should be longer. Enjoy.  
  
Meeting Dr. Brown  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Calla and Ephram walked at a leisurely pace down Main Street. She would pause every now and then to look into store windows or to read signs posted above doors. "Everwood has a train station?" Calla questioned as her gaze brought her attention to the brick building on the other side of the street.  
  
"Used to be. It's doctor's office now," Ephram replied, following her across the road.  
  
Calla stopped under the sign and read it like she had the others. "Doctor Andrew Brown. Name sounds familiar." She thought for a moment, and Ephram thought she was making the 'miraculous surgeon' connection. "Relation of yours?"  
  
"Yeah, actually. My dad."  
  
"Oh. . .You don't seem so happy about that."  
  
"Yeah, well. . ." He started to head down the sidewalk.  
  
"You're not gonna introduce me?" she asked, grinning. "I could go in, introduce myself, and - Dad? Hi."  
  
Ephram became completely confused, then turned to look behind him where Calla's gaze was fixed. "Hey, Calla," the man said, approaching the teens.  
  
"This is Ephram. Ephram, my dad." Calla said, the same tone of voice and expression on her face as that which Ephram had when he told her that Dr. Andrew Brown was his father. Ephram smiled, knowing the feeling.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Porter," Ephram greeted, shaking Marcus' hand.  
  
"Hello, Ephram. Well, I was just over there," he said, pointing to an empty building near Dr. Abbott's office with a sale sign in the window. "I think it's a keeper." He noticed the look on Calla's face. "Um, well, I think I'll be going. It's good to see you're making friends on your first day. It was nice to meet you Ephram."  
  
"You, too." Ephram nodded as Marcus left the two alone. "What's he gonna do with that building?"  
  
"He's gonna open an art studio or a gallery. A place to sell his art. Maybe give classes? I'm not sure."  
  
"You take after him?" At the look Calla was giving him, he explained. "You were doing sketches in the library."  
  
"Oh. Kinda, I suppose. I'll never be as good as he is, but one can hope. So. . .you met my dad. . ."  
  
"Now you want to meet mine."  
  
"Yep."  
  
Ephram held the door open for her and followed her inside. "Hi, Edna."  
  
"Hey there, kiddo. Who's your friend?" the older woman at the desk asked, gesturing at Calla.  
  
"This is Calla Porter. She moved here recently. Calla, this is Edna Harper, my dad's nurse."  
  
Calla went over to the desk and shook Edna's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harper."  
  
"Please - call me Edna."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Edna." Calla smiled.  
  
Edna smiled in return. "When did you get here?"  
  
"Yesterday."  
  
A door opened from behind Edna's desk. "Take one pill twice daily and that should clear right up," the man with the beard, who Calla was guessing to be Dr. Brown, was saying, handing a prescription to a thirty-something woman. As she thanked him and walked towards the exit, Dr. Brown became aware of Ephram and Calla. "Hello. Ephram, why aren't you in school?"  
  
"I don't have class. This is Calla Porter. I'm showing her around Everwood - she moved here yesterday. Cale, my dad, Dr. Brown," introduced.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Brown," Calla said, as she moved to shake his outstretched hand. "Oh! At first, I couldn't place the name and the face, but I recognize you now. It's wonderful to meet you."  
  
"Thank you. It's nice meeting you, too, Calla. How do you like Everwood so far?"  
  
"Well, I couldn't have hoped to run into more delightful people. Everyone's been really nice."  
  
Andy glanced at Ephram. "That's nice to know. Everwood is a great place."  
  
"Oh, well, hey. Why don't you guys come over for dinner?"  
  
"You sure? Your parents won't mind?" Andy looked at Ephram, who shrugged in reply.  
  
"Yeah. My dad would be honored to have you at dinner."  
  
"Well, um, okay."  
  
"Seven sound good?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"We live at. . .I'm not quite sure of the number, but it's the very last house on Magnolia Drive."  
  
"Okay. Tonight at seven. We'll be there."  
  
"Neat."  
  
"Well," Ephram began, "we should be going. There's more of Everwood to see."  
  
"Okay. See you tonight, Dr. Brown. Edna, is was nice meeting you."  
  
Dr. Brown and Edna said their goodbye's as Ephram led Calla out the front door. "Nice girl," Edna commented. "Look's like Ephram's got a new friend."  
  
"I wonder how she did it," Andy laughed, retreating back into his office. 


	5. A Glimpse of Heaven

A Glimpse of Heaven  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Reaching the top of the trail, Calla stopped in her tracks. She held her breath and words failed her.  
  
Ephram smiled. "Beautiful, isn't it?"  
  
Calla just nodded, lowering herself to the grass that covered the area, she looked out onto the view before her. It looked like one of her father's paintings. "She was right. . .this is Heaven."  
  
Ephram glanced at her as he sat beside her. "She?"  
  
"My mom."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"That's why we're here. . .my mom. . .She always wanted to come back here, so Dad decided that now was the perfect time. . .I really hate him for this," Calla said, looking over to Ephram. "I don't want to be here. I mean, I guess it's not that bad, I've made a couple friends, I think." Ephram nodded. "But I want to go home. That's where my life is, where I belong. Mom, Zeke, Josh, and Erin. . .that's where they are. . ."  
  
"Did your parents divorce?" he questioned, confused.  
  
"I wish it were that simple. . .That I could deal with. But, no."  
  
Ephram didn't want to press, even though he was curious as to what she was alluding to. But he didn't question her. "When my mom was younger, the train she was on stopped here. When the train station was still a functioning train station. But she promised herself that she would always come back."  
  
"Our mom's have something in common, huh?"  
  
Had, he silently corrected. "Yeah."  
  
Changing the subject, Calla asked, "You don't mind my inviting your family over for dinner, do you?"  
  
"No, it's fine." He stared ahead, seeing something in the distance that Calla couldn't see.  
  
"You remind me of my friend Luke. He has the coolest last name - Shapiro." She began to giggle. "I've always thought that was the greatest name ever. I tried changing my name to it once, but my parents wouldn't let me. I was so mad. Then I told Luke he had to marry me. We were, like, six at the time. . .Do you remember the show 'Angry Beavers' on Nickelodeon?"  
  
Ephram thought for a moment before nodding. "Wasn't there a toy or something that they were always trying to get that was called the Shapiro?"  
  
"Sha-sha-shapiiiiiro!" Her giggles were bordering on hysterical.  
  
Ephram couldn't help but laugh. He didn't understand this girl at all. "I'm standing by my previous conclusion of your oddness."  
  
Calla laid back, her giggles subsiding, eyes focused on the sky above her. "I wish we could stay here all day."  
  
"Maybe we could come back tomorrow - you invited us to dinner. Remember?"  
  
She turned her to look at him. "Of course I remember. Seven, right?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"What was the name of that diner you showed me?" She sat up, an expression of thought set on her face. "Mama Joy's!"  
  
"Yeah, that's it. Why?"  
  
"I got the munchies. You hungry?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. "I could eat."  
  
"Cool." Calla stood, surveying the area and trying to commit it to memory in case she forgot the way there. She offered a hand to Ephram, helping him up.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"I can't believe it's already four thirty," Calla commented, chewing on the end of her straw before sticking it back in her glass.  
  
"Well, you did see all of Everwood and had an order of Mama Joy's fries. I think that's pretty good for your first day."  
  
"Second, technically."  
  
Ephram stole a fry from her plate, dipping the end in ketchup before eating it. "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome." Her attention was now focused over Ephram's shoulder on the person entering the diner. A bell rang as the door opened.  
  
"Hey, Cale," a familiar voice greeted. Footsteps started in their direction.  
  
Ephram glanced over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at whom he saw. Go figure, he thought.  
  
"Hi, Bright," Calla said, giving him a small wave.  
  
When Bright realized that she was sitting with Ephram, he looked at her like she had three heads. "What are you doing hanging around this loser?"  
  
Ephram started to slide out of the booth, but Calla's hand stopped him. "He's my friend and he's not a loser. Apologize."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Please? For me?" She batted her eyelashes at him.  
  
"Okay. . .Maybe he's not a loser."  
  
"Maybe you haven't tried to get to know him."  
  
"I'm gonna go. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye, Bright."  
  
"You didn't have to do that, you know." Ephram sighed, looking at the table.  
  
"I did." She gently squeezed his hand that was still covered by her own. "Ephram, he had no right. Anyway, the whole 'loser' thing doesn't fly with me. I don't know you that well, but I know you're no loser."  
  
"Thanks for the faith. We should probably be going. You still need to tell your dad that you invited us for dinner."  
  
"True." She removed her hand from Ephram's and scooted out of the booth. After paying for her fries and pop, she followed Ephram outside.  
  
Inside the vehicle, Ephram questioned, "Think you can get to my house without directions?"  
  
"If you ever plan on getting home, I wouldn't even offer that bet. . .So, which way do I go first?" When Ephram didn't answer, she nudged him with her elbow. "Ephram! What, do you plan on coming home with me?"  
  
"Is that an invitation?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
Calla laughed. "Either way, I'm gonna need directions."  
  
After Calla dropped Ephram off at his house, he gave her directions back to her own. The house was silent when she entered.  
  
"Dad? You here?" Silence answered her. "Okay. That's a no. I suppose I could start getting dinner ready. . .find a recipe. . ."  
  
"Calla, you home?" Marcus called fifteen minutes later, closing the front door behind him.  
  
"Yeah. I'm in the kitchen."  
  
Marcus headed in the direction of her voice. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking for a recipe. That's what one usually tends to be doing when surrounded with cook books."  
  
"Aren't we sarcastic today. What's the occasion? You rarely cook unless it's something you don't want me to screw up."  
  
"I invited some people over for dinner."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Doctor Andrew Brown and his family."  
  
"The brain doctor from New York?"  
  
"Yeah. I met him today. We were outside his office when you ran into us. Me and Ephram, I mean. Ephram is his son."  
  
"Huh. And you invited them for dinner?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So, you're telling me that we're having the Dr. Brown for dinner."  
  
"And his family."  
  
"That's pretty cool, huh?"  
  
"Yes, Dad. Cool. Now, how does manicotti sound?"  
  
"Great. But you're gonna have to go to the store."  
  
"I've had enough of driving around this place for one day. You go." Calla started to write down a list of ingredients and handed it to her dad when she was done. 


	6. A Tragic Similarity

A Tragic Similarity  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"That was wonderful, Calla," Andy said, setting his napkin down beside his plate.  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Brown," she replied graciously, standing up to clear the table. Ephram stood as well, picking up his and Delia's plates, then followed Calla into the kitchen.  
  
"I think that's the most decent meal we've eaten all week," Ephram said, placing the plates inside the dishwasher as Calla had. "My dad can't cook."  
  
"Neither can mine."  
  
When Calla and Ephram returned to the dining room, Andy handed Ephram a twenty-dollar bill. "Here. Take the girls to Mama Joy's for dessert. Mr. Porter is going to show me his work."  
  
Marcus pulled out his keys, holding them out for Calla. "It's in the garage."  
  
The three climbed into the Durango after Calla unlocked the doors. "You have your seatbelt on, Delia?" Ephram questioned, turning to look at her in the backseat.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, rolling her eyes at him then grinning conspiratorially.  
  
At that moment, Ephram had no desire to know what his sister what thinking. It couldn't've been good. When he realized that they had been waiting at a stop sign for a particularly long amount of time, considering the lack of traffic, he answered Calla's unasked question. "Left."  
  
"Thanks." A couple of minutes later, she pulled into a parking space in front of Mama Joy's. Once inside, they slid into Ephram and Calla's booth from earlier, Delia opting to sit beside her brother.  
  
"Hey, kids. What can I get ya?" the waitress asked, pencil poised above a pad of paper.  
  
"I'll have a hot fudge sundae," Delia said as she began to kick her feet beneath the table.  
  
"I'm fine," Ephram replied when the waitress' eyes turned to him.  
  
"Me, too," Calla agreed.  
  
"Okay. One hot fudge sundae coming up." The waitress winked at Delia as she walked away.  
  
"You remind me of Erin," Calla said, looking at Delia. "You're. . .ten?"  
  
"Yeah," Delia nodded enthusiastically. "How'd you know?"  
  
"Good guess. You're only a couple of years younger than Erin was."  
  
"Who's Erin?"  
  
"My sister."  
  
"How come she wasn't at dinner?"  
  
"I don't think it's something you want to hear about right now."  
  
"It's okay. I'm mature for my age." The waitress wordlessly set the sundae in front of Delia, who took a bite. "That's what Dad says, anyways."  
  
"Well. . ."  
  
Ephram noticed her struggle for the right words. "You don't have to explain."  
  
"I suppose you would find out sooner or later what happened - why we're here. And I'd rather have you find it out from me." She paused. "A couple of months ago. . .I don't think this is a story to tell over ice cream, Delia. Erin's just. . .gone now. But she's happy. And she's with the rest of my family."  
  
Delia eagerly ate her sundae. "I'm done with my ice cream. . .Can you tell me now?"  
  
"A couple of months ago, we were on our way to Josh's little league game in Mansfield. I had been out with friends and we were running late. Dad was waiting in the Durango for me and told Mom to go on ahead - that we would meet her there. She had just pulled out of the driveway and was heading down the block when we came around the corner. Dad and me followed behind her on the highway, the traffic was pretty light outside of Hope Springs. The further out we got, the more traffic we encountered and we eventually ended up a few cars behind Mom, Zeke, Josh, and Erin. I remember that the windows were down and that Dad was lecturing me about punctuality. I wasn't really paying him much attention and was staring out the window. I noticed this semi barreling down the on-ramp - I mean, he had to have been going at least a hundred, that's what the report said. But, Mom was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. . ."  
  
Delia stared up at Calla with wide, understanding eyes. She reached for the older girl's hand. "My mom died in a car accident, too."  
  
Calla wiped a trail of tears from her cheek, embarrassed about crying in front of someone she barely knew. "I told you it wasn't an ice cream story."  
  
The ride back to the Porter house was silent. No one knew quite what to say. Exiting the vehicle when they were in the driveway, Ephram stopped Delia. "You go ahead inside. I, we'll be right there." After Delia solemnly nodded, he turned to Calla. "Do you want to talk about this?"  
  
"Not really. . .What's there to talk about? It's my fault that my mom, brothers, and sister are dead." She sat on the steps leading up to the porch, the wood creaking slightly.  
  
"You can't blame yourself for this."  
  
"I can, Ephram. If I had just been on time for once. We would have made it to the game, everyone would be okay, and we wouldn't have had to move."  
  
"It was an accident. It's just that simple."  
  
Calla could feel the rage building up inside her. He had no idea what happened! There was nothing simple about it. "You don't know what it's like," she said in a low voice.  
  
"My mom was on her way to my piano recital when she was in a car accident. I know exactly what it's like. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over, Cale. It'll just destroy you in the end."  
  
"I don't think it's possible for me to be any more destroyed." She angrily brushed more tears from her face with the backs of her hands. "I thought I dealt with this a while ago. . ."  
  
Ephram didn't know what else he could say. Nervously, he took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It was all he could think of to do. After a while, she stood up, tugging his hand as a gesture to follow her, but dropping it as she opened the door to go inside.  
  
Andy glanced at Delia yawning on the couch. "I think it's about time to go," he said to Ephram. "It was nice meeting you, Marc." He shook Marcus' hand. "And, Cale. Thanks for inviting us. Hopefully we'll be seeing more of you."  
  
"It was our pleasure, Dr. Brown," Calla replied, as she followed behind the family onto the porch.  
  
"Yeah," Delia half-yawned. "Maybe you could come over and teach Dad how to cook."  
  
Ephram laughed. "I'll see you at school."  
  
Calla nodded, waiting until they had all gotten into their vehicle before she shut the door.  
  
"I feel bad for her," Delia said quietly from the backseat.  
  
"Why's that?" Andy questioned, pulling away from the curb.  
  
"She told us why she moved here. . .She has a lot in common with us."  
  
Andy looked to Ephram for an explanation. Ephram sighed before starting. "She lost her Mom, as well as two brothers and a sister, in a car accident a couple of months ago. She said her Mom had been here once and had always wanted to come back." Andy thought of Julia. "She blames herself for what happened."  
  
"After tragedies in the family, we tend to blame ourselves for what happened. But it's useless-"  
  
"No matter how many 'if only's' you go through, it doesn't change anything. . ."  
  
"I know that better than anyone," Andy said softly. "I spent so much time trying to figure out how things went wrong that I forgot to be a father. I'm sorry about that, Ephram. I wasn't there when you and Delia needed me."  
  
"I didn't help any. It's just. . .it was so hard. And it wasn't fair."  
  
"I know."  
  
That night, for the first time, Ephram and Andy came to an understanding. 


	7. Social Suicide

Social Suicide  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Calla was at her locker, pulling out her physics book, when Bright approached her. "You know, hanging out with guys like Ephram is considered social suicide."  
  
"Then consider my wrists slit," she responded, closing her locker and walking away from him.  
  
"Cale. . ." He quickly followed after her, taking her side.  
  
"What, Bright? Are you sure you want to be seen conversing with me in these halls?"  
  
He saw the anger in her eyes. "Maybe I deserved that-"  
  
"Maybe?" Calla rolled her eyes. "Do you even know him?"  
  
"No. . ."  
  
"Then you have no place to judge him."  
  
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to. . .offend you. It's just. . .there's a not so good history between Ephram and Amy. I know her side, but I guess I should probably know his, too."  
  
Calla smiled. "You catch on fast. But, you realize that I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Um, let me fix things with you first, though, okay? Let me take you out."  
  
"I, uh, okay?"  
  
"I'll pick you up around 7:30?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm the very last house on Magnolia Drive."  
  
He grinned. "Okay. It's a date."  
  
Calla watched him disappear down the hallway before heading to physics.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Ephram was sitting at the same table as he had the day before at lunch, reading a comic book, when Calla entered the cafeteria. She took her seat across from him. "So, you've got a date with Bright." It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yeah, I guess. How'd you know?"  
  
"Everybody knows," he replied, not taking his eyes off the comic book.  
  
Calla looked around the room finding many sets of eyes on her. "Oh. . .I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't've yelled at you."  
  
"It's okay. I've gone through it, too."  
  
"I'm sorry you had to. This isn't something that anyone should have to experience."  
  
"So. . .You and Bright. You realize this will be a topic of discussion among students for the next couple of weeks. Most of these kids thrive on gossip. Oh, and a little piece of advice, try to steer clear of Rachel Nolan."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Ephram stood, closing his comic book. "Bright broke up with her this morning - after he asked you out."  
  
"What?" Calla was quickly behind Ephram, following him out of the lunchroom. "She didn't even like me to begin with."  
  
Ephram looked confused. "How did you meet her?"  
  
"She's the one who showed me around to all my classes. Well, showed me the doors, really."  
  
"Well, I'd tell you good luck, but I'm pretty sure you can do better than Bright Abbott. However, I will give you my condolences." He retreated into a classroom, and Calla chose not to follow.  
  
She didn't understand how the two friends she had made here in Everwood could hate each other so much. 


	8. Holy Monkey and Shaggy Dog

Holy Monkey and Shaggy Dog  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Ephram caught up with Calla as she was heading out of the building after classes were dismissed. "Hey. Did you want to go back?"  
  
"Go back?" she questioned confusedly, turning to face him. "Oh! That look- out point. Um, yeah. Did you want to go now?"  
  
"I don't have much else to do," he shrugged.  
  
"Okay, then. Let's go." Calla led Ephram off in the direction of the parking lot.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"Hey. . .Look at those clouds over there." Calla pointed to the sky above the mountains to their right.  
  
Ephram propped himself up slightly on his elbows. "Yeah. . .they're neat."  
  
"They look like stairs. . ."  
  
"Huh. . .they do." He glanced over to the girl beside him. She almost looked as though she were seeing the sky for the first time. She smiled and said something, but he didn't hear her because he was studying the curves of her face in the diminishing sunlight. "What did you say?"  
  
She looked at Ephram before returning her gaze to the sky, laughing slightly. "What planet were you visiting?"  
  
Ephram felt himself blushing. "Sorry. I was just. . ."  
  
"So completely not with it?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I noticed. . .I said that it looked like a stairway to Heaven." They lay there for a while longer, then Calla abruptly sat up. "What time is it?"  
  
"Um. . ." Ephram pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch. "Ten after seven. Why?"  
  
"Holy monkey. Bright. My house. Seven thirty." She stood and helped Ephram to his feet.  
  
"Oh, yeah." He tried to sound enthused, but it didn't come out that way.  
  
Calla laughed the whole way back to the car. "You know, it figures."  
  
"What figures?" Ephram didn't follow her train of thought.  
  
"That the only two people I've befriended don't like each other. I really wish that you guys would get along. I don't know what it was that caused you to not be friends, but how bad could it be?"  
  
"It depends on the point-of-view."  
  
"Well," Calla began, turning the key in the ignition then putting the vehicle into gear, "one of these days, you will enlighten me with your point-of-view."  
  
"One of these days."  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
It was seven twenty and Calla was still standing in the middle of her room trying to decide what to wear. "What does one wear on a first date?" she asked herself quietly. She glanced at her clock again. If it's seven twenty-one here, then it's. . .eight twenty-one there, she thought. She picked up her phone and dialed the eleven digits.  
  
"Hello?" questioned the first familiar voice Calla had heard since she'd been in Everwood.  
  
"Renee? It's Cale."  
  
"Hey! How are you? I haven't heard from you since you left? How are you?"  
  
"Um, I'm good, I guess. What am I supposed to wear on a first date?"  
  
Renee squealed. "You've only been there how long and you already have a date?"  
  
"Yeah. And he's supposed to be here in.eight minutes."  
  
"Um.do you know where you're going?"  
  
"Not a clue."  
  
"Okay. Well, um, let's see. Oh! Okay. That long jean skirt you have - with that antique-y wash - and that pink peasant blouse-thing."  
  
"You sure about the skirt? What about jeans?"  
  
"But I like the skirt," Renee whined. "Fine. Which jeans did you have in mind?"  
  
"Those ones. . .You know, with the thing. . ."  
  
"Yeah, you're really helpful."  
  
"They're the same color as the skirt and they came with that belt."  
  
"Ooh. Okay, okay. That works. So. . .what does he look like?"  
  
"He's cute," she giggled. "Really, really, cute."  
  
"Eyes?"  
  
"Blue. Blonde hair. He kinda reminds me of Evan - with the hair."  
  
"Shaggy dog." The two erupted into laughter. "I wish I could be there."  
  
"I wish you could be, too. I miss you."  
  
"I miss you, too. Call me when you get back. I don't care how late it is."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
"Thanks. Talk to you later."  
  
"Yep. Bye."  
  
Calla hung up the phone and pulled the jeans from her dresser and the shirt from its hanger in her closet. As she pulled the shirt over her head, she heard the doorbell ring. She hurried to finish getting dressed and grabbed a pair of sandals as she raced out of her room and down the stairs. She reached the foyer at the same time as her dad and slipped her feet into the shoes. Opening the door, she smiled at Bright. "Hi." She stepped aside to let him in.  
  
Marcus was standing in the living room, confused as to why this young man was at his house. "Hello," he said, offering his hand to Bright.  
  
"Dad, this is Bright. Bright, my dad."  
  
"Hello, Mr. Porter." Bright shook his hand firmly.  
  
Calla gave her dad a look. "I'll be back later, okay?"  
  
"Uh huh." Marcus wasn't so sure about this. Who was this boy? And what happened to the one she brought over yesterday - the son of Doctor Brown? "Have fun." At least she was making friends.  
  
"We will." Calla gently took Bright's arm and led him towards the front door, grabbing her purse on the way.  
  
Bright laughed. "Okay." He nodded, smiling.  
  
"What?" she asked skeptically, following him to his car.  
  
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He opened her door for her and closed it after she got in.  
  
Calla smiled to herself. "Sure."  
  
Bright climbed in, starting the car and fastening his seatbelt. "So. . .Have you been into Gino's yet?" 


	9. Every Breath

Every Breath  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
Calla had enjoyed Gino's and found it quite unique. She'd never been to a restaurant with such completely opposite influences. Her dinner with Bright was fun and wasn't anywhere near as awkward as she had thought it would've been. They saw his sister, Amy, and her boyfriend, Colin, who was Bright's best-friend.  
  
She was currently sitting quietly beside Bright as they drove down a desolate highway. Staring out the window, she tried to ignore that fact that she was heading down the highway at sixty-seven miles-per-hour with a teenage boy she hadn't even known for a week towards some unknown destination. She decided to focus on the comfortable silence they shared and the pure starlight that illuminated everything she could see.  
  
The car slowed down as Bright turned down a narrow gravel road. Soon, he took another turn, and, after a few minutes, they ended up at a clearing. He parked the car, shut it off, and got out. After letting Calla out, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a big blanket. He set the blanket down and smoothed it out then stood back up and went over to Calla. Taking her hand, he led her over to the blanket. He sat down and tugged lightly on her hand, indicating he wanted her to do the same. As he leaned back, his words were soft. "I found this place a little over a year ago. . .You know Colin? Well, last Fourth of July, we were in an accident with his dad's truck. We were off-roading at Miller's field. We had been drinking. . .And I was driving. . .Colin ended up in a coma - he finally started remembering things a couple of months ago. . .But for a while after the accident, I would drive the gravel roads for hours and I came across this spot. It feels like the only place that is still uncontaminated by the rest of the world. From here, everything seems so perfect. Everything just kinda. . .goes away."  
  
Calla looked down at him, smiling at how content he seemed to be, then laid beside him. "This is beautiful. . .You don't see this many stars that often." The sky was alive with tiny lights - appeared to be a black canvas marred with pin-pricks and backlit by the sun. A long, quiet moment ensued. "Bright?" she questioned, rolling over onto her side to look him in the eye. When he looked up at her, moving to lean partly on his elbow, she continued. "Why did you ask me to dinner? Guys like you don't ask girls like me to do anything - none that I've met, anyway. . ."  
  
"Cale, I honestly don't know why I asked you out. I like you, and I guess I want to be on your good side, you know? You're not like the rest of the girls here - you don't seem to care of what other people think. I like that, too. And I want to get to know you better. . .I don't want to miss an opportunity."  
  
"Oh." That wasn't quite the answer she was expecting to get from him and she wasn't sure how to take it.  
  
"Did I say something wrong? I have a tendency to do that type of thing. A lot." He reached out and grasped her wrist lightly.  
  
"No. You didn't." She attempted to smile, disappointed that he didn't know why he asked her out and unsure why this news affected her as much as it did. She looked down, studying the pattern of the blanket. "It's okay."  
  
"It's not. I did say something wrong." He gently lifted her chin so she was looking him in the eye again. After searching her eyes for a moment, he leaned in and softly kissed her. His hand rested on the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.  
  
Calla didn't know what to do. As she kissed him back, her hand found its way to his upper arm where she held onto him with a firm grasp. All she heard was the faint chirping of crickets and all she could see was the night-sky that would now be permanently ingrained into her memory. Stars dancing behind closed eyelids, the warm glow they cast spreading through her body.  
  
Bright slowly pulled away, moving his hand to hers which was now busying itself with fuzz on the blanket. "Did I say it right that time?" he asked.  
  
"Every breath," she replied, grinning as she looked back up to the starry night sky.  
  
"It's getting late and I should get you home. Plus, we've got school tomorrow." Bright stood and helped Calla stand as well.  
  
She sighed, not wanting to go yet. "Okay."  
  
Bright folded the blanket back up and put it in the backseat, and opened Calla's door for her, closing it when she was seated. Soon they were back on the highway, and he would glance over at her occasionally, smiling at the smile that was on her face.  
  
They returned to Calla's house sooner than she desired, and he opened her door for her. He walked her up to her door - something she figured was standard after-date doings. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Tonight was wonderful."  
  
"You're welcome. I had a great time, too." He kissed her again. The stars were still there with their filling warmth. "Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight." She watched him walk down the porch steps and down to his car. Watched him get in and drive away. Leaning against the door, she decided it no longer mattered why Bright Abbott had asked her to dinner. 


	10. A Girl Doesn't Kiss and Tell

A Girl Doesn't Kiss and Tell  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"How was your night?" Marcus asked, hearing the front door open and close, setting his book down on the cushion beside him. "Did you have fun?"  
  
Calla entered the living room. "Good, and yes," she smiled. "Goodnight, Dad." She slowly walked up the stairs and to her room. After closing the door, she turned on her CD player and got ready for bed. As she sat on the edge of her mattress, she picked up the phone and pressed the redial button.  
  
"Hello?" Renee answered.  
  
"Hey, Ne, it's me."  
  
"Hey! How'd it go?"  
  
"It was. . .oh. . .he kissed me. Twice. I can't. . .Wow. That's it - wow." She sighed.  
  
Renee started giggling. "You got it bad."  
  
"Do I?" Calla thought for a moment as one of her favorite songs started to play. "What about Ephram?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Ephram. I met him the day after I met Bright. He showed me around Everwood and he likes the same kind of music as I do. He really likes Dishwalla. We. . .connected - in a way. I told him about everything - why we came here. We've got a lot in common."  
  
"Oh, don't do this to yourself. You always do this with everything. If you like Bright and he likes you, don't bring someone else into it. Someone will get hurt."  
  
"What if-"  
  
"No 'what ifs.'"  
  
"Renee. . .Okay. I'll forget about it."  
  
"Good. Hey, guess who I talked to after I talked to you."  
  
"Um. . .I don't know. You're gonna tell me anyway. Who?"  
  
"Evan and Luke."  
  
"Oh? And?"  
  
"We're gonna come out there when we get the chance. We decided. It was Luke's idea. I'm guessing sometime around Christmas."  
  
"That long?"  
  
"I know. But Thanksgiving break isn't long enough. We want to spend a good week with you out there. Maybe hit the slopes. Go snowboarding."  
  
"Oh, so that's why you want to come out here. You don't want to see me, you want to see the slopes."  
  
"You saw right through me! Cale, you know we would be out there to see you right now if we could."  
  
"I know. But, I gotta get to bed. I'll call you later, okay?"  
  
"Yep. Bye."  
  
"Bye, Renee." Calla hung the phone up and crawled under the blanket on her bed. After shutting of the lamp, she stared at the ceiling for a while, replaying the evening in her mind. Oh, her dreams were bound to be eventful tonight - with guest appearances made by Bright Abbott.  
  
.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.  
  
"Hey, Cale," Ephram said as she approached him at his locker.  
  
"Hi," she replied, leaning against a locker on the other side of his.  
  
"You look awfully happy."  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"Yes. Terrifyingly so. What's up?"  
  
"Nothing." The grin got wider.  
  
"Okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Then again, maybe I don't want to know." He closed his locker door and started down the hallway. "You coming?"  
  
"Right behind you." And she soon was.  
  
"As much as I'd rather not hear about Bright, I know you're dying to tell someone, so spill."  
  
"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." At the look Ephram gave her, she burst out laughing.  
  
"I. . .you know, I didn't want to know that. Remind me to never inquire about your dates with Bright again."  
  
"Hey, Cale," Bright said softly, walking up to the two in the hallway. "Hi, Ephram. You don't mind, do you?" He gestured towards Calla.  
  
"Um. . .No. . ." He was confused and unsure as to why Bright was even acknowledging his presence, much less asking his permission for anything.  
  
"I'll, uh, I'll see you later, okay?" Calla said to Ephram as Bright took her hand.  
  
"Yeah. See you."  
  
She felt kind of guilty, leaving Ephram alone in the middle of the hallway like that, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. "Hi, Bright. How are you this morning?"  
  
He laughed, a nice, deep sound in his throat. "Good, really good. You?"  
  
"Couldn't be better." 


End file.
